


See You Next Level

by rideahorse



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Bless his heart for trying, Drunk Katsuki Yuuri, M/M, Poor Victor doesn't deserve this, Post-Banquet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 19:17:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9005443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rideahorse/pseuds/rideahorse
Summary: Yuuri stumbled against Victor’s chest, hiccuped, and let out a sleepy little hum.  He glanced up, soft grin curling against his lips (and, again, Victor wasn’t sure if that was better than a sultry smirk or not, because goddamn it was infinitely cuter), and leaned closer.  Victor held his breath.  With two hands bracing themselves on Victor’s shoulders for balance, Yuuri leaned up on his tiptoes and pressed a kiss against Victor’s jaw.  He pulled back after a moment, eyes meeting Victor’s.  “I want you to stay.”“I—I can’t.”“Why not?”





	

**Author's Note:**

> (set post-banquet from last year's prix)

Victor didn’t know how he had gotten to his current situation. 

 

“Grand Central Hotel, please.”

 

The cab driver clicked his tongue and typed the address into the GPS hooked up on the dash, before glancing over his shoulder.“Need some help with your bag—er, your friend?”

 

Victor gave a guilty smile, trying to ignore the cramping in his lower back from the amount of deadweight slung over his shoulder.The deadweight groaned lowly, one of its hands fisting in the front of Victor’s untucked dress shirt. 

 

“It’s alright, he’s just had a bit much to drink.”

 

As he eased Katsuki Yuuri, Japan’s top figure skater (and, evidently, Japan’s top pole dancer), off of his shoulder and into the backseat of the cab, Yuuri flung out a hand to grab his wrist, pulling him headlong into the cab with him.Victor grunted, maneuvering his knees off the seat and reaching behind himself to close the cab door, all the while trying to ignore the warm champagne bubbles clouding his brain, the warm feeling of Yuuri’s hand around his wrist.(The warm feeling of _Yuuri_ that had been against his body earlier, as they’d danced.)

 

Yuuri slung an arm around Victor’s neck, already beginning to murmur sweet indecipherable nothings, and Victor cleared his throat awkwardly, meeting the cab driver’s eyes in the mirror.The driver raised a single brow, and then, deciding not to make a fuss, shrugged.

 

“No vomiting.”

 

Victor nodded, trying to loosen Yuuri’s chokehold.“Promise.”

 

“Victor,” Yuuri cooed, batting a clumsy hand along Victor’s cheek.Victor struggled with Yuuri’s seatbelt for a moment, eventually relaxing after he heard it click into place and turning his attention to his now-conscious acquaintance (friend? competitor? by the banquet’s events—love interest?).

 

Yuuri stuck out a lip, eyes half-lidded in an erotic expression that made Victor want to return Yuuri’s glasses from their safe place in his jacket pocket back to his face, in order to disguise it.

 

Victor cleared his throat, lifting Yuuri’s hand from his cheek.“Uh, Katsuki, now that you’re awake, do you remember your room number?”

 

Yuuri mumbled something in Japanese, ducking his head against Victor.Victor jumped slightly at the sensation of a cold nose rubbing against his neck, taking a breath to try to slow his pulse.“Mm, I forget,” Yuuri managed.

 

Victor chewed on his lip, purposefully looking anywhere but the rear-view mirror, where the cab driver was watching the events with increasing amusement.“Surely you have your key, at least.”

 

“Mm, I dunno,” Yuuri slurred, tilting his head and planting a loud kiss against Victor’s neck.“Why can’t I stay with you?”

 

“Because—“Victor scrambled for a reasonable answer, but his own drinks were starting to get to him as well, so he came up empty. And really, nothing about the idea sounded bad—spending a night with Yuuri Katsuki? It was a temptation that was growing stronger by the minute, with the moment that Yuuri unbuttoned his shirt to breathe, exposing a delicate pale collarbone.With the moment Yuuri’s nose brushed against his jaw, his breath puffing against Victor’s cheek, until he gave a playful nip to Victor’s earlobe. With the moment that Yuuri’s hands gently fanned across his face, turning Victor’s chin to face him.With the moment that Yuuri’s lips parted slightly, pink and soft with beneath the glow of the passing streetlights.Victor took a breath.

 

“ _Because_ ,” he concluded.

 

Yuuri pouted, leaning closer as if he wanted to—Victor swallowed—climb on top of Victor’s lap, but fortunately the seatbelt kept him in place.Victor counted his lucky stars for that one. 

 

“But I wanna stay with _you_ ,” Yuuri whined, glaring (at least, if a puppy could glare) in Victor’s general direction.

 

“ _Not_ a good idea,” Victor managed, trying to be the reasonable adult in the situation (and struggling—boy, was he struggling to resist that, that— _eros incarnate_ ).“We are taking you to your room and that’s it.”

 

Yuuri opened his mouth to protest, but was distracted by the cab coming to a stop.

 

“We’re here.”

 

Victor grinned and passed the driver some cash from his jacket pocket, a quick “Keep the change,” muttered before he wrapped Yuuri’s arm across his shoulder and tugged him out of the cab.Yuuri stumbled, knees crumpling to the ground as if he’d rather stay there.“Oh, no, no, no, you don’t,” Victor grit out, readjusting his grip and managing to get Yuuri (who, though shorter, was definitely not as light as he looked) to his feet.

 

Yuuri followed along without protest, choosing instead to distract himself with the decorative lining (a winner should be proud of his appearance, Yakov had said) on Victor’s collar and sleeves.He said something on the subject, in almost comically slurred Japanese, causing Victor to hide a grin in his shoulder as he lead Yuuri in by the elbow.

 

They navigated to an elevator, Victor punching the button to his floor (because he was fairly certain, at least, that all the skaters were sharing the same floor).But no sooner had the doors closed between them and the rest of the lobby and the elevator started its slow but steady ascent than Yuuri had stumbled forward, bracing both of his arms on either side of Victor’s head.

 

“I’ll make your night worth it,” Yuuri teased, fingertips dancing beneath Victor’s collar, tracing burning patterns against his skin.

 

Victor cursed every name he could think of—everyone that had been there, at the banquet, and let this happen.

 

And sure, the situation was, in part, Victor’s fault as well.He could’ve easily just given Yuuri to someone else; Christophe would’ve gladly brought him back to his room safe and sound, so why hadn’t he just asked?It’s not like everyone else couldn’t see exactly what Victor was dealing with.But Victor was a glutton for temptation (punishment, maybe), and Yuuri, though not exactly an attention-grabber at first, was beginning to appear cute as all hell.It was his own burgeoning sense of curiosity and infatuation that had gotten him into this mess in the first place.(And _no_ , as he had insisted to Christophe as he lead Yuuri out of the banquet, it was _not_ his dick.)

 

Victor encircled Yuuri’s wrists with both hands, holding them still.He sighed, dropping his head until his forehead bumped Yuuri’s.“Oh, kotyenok, you make it very hard to say no.”

 

“You don’t have to.”Yuuri freed both hands, tracing Victor’s lips with his thumb.“Whatever you’re…you’re thinkin’ of, I don’t mind.” 

 

Victor swallowed, frozen in thought until Yuuri took a slight step back as the elevator slowed to a stop.The doors cracked open, and Yuuri twined his fingers with Victor’s, pulling him off the wall and down the hallway. 

 

“Oh, thank God,” Victor muttered upon the sight of a gift basket with a very familiar red-and-white flag placed outside one of the hotel doors.“It’s your room.”

 

Yuuri, who had buried his face in Victor’s shoulder, made no comment, so Victor rifled through Yuuri’s jacket pockets until his fingers felt the smooth plastic of a room key.He led Yuuri over, managing to simultaneously both hold him up against the doorframe and get the key into the door, and was rewarded with the satisfying _click_ of the door unlocking.

 

“Katsuki, kotyenok.”Victor brushed Yuuri’s hair back from his forehead, watching with a certain degree of amusement (fondness? He was having a hard time denying that it might be fondness) as Yuuri squinted first one, then the other eye up at him. “It’s your room.” 

 

Yuuri stumbled against Victor’s chest, hiccuped, and let out a sleepy little hum.He glanced up, soft grin curling against his lips (and, again, Victor wasn’t sure if that was better than a sultry smirk or not, because goddamn it was infinitely cuter), and leaned closer.Victor held his breath.With two hands bracing themselves on Victor’s shoulders for balance, Yuuri leaned up on his tiptoes and pressed a kiss against Victor’s jaw. 

 

He pulled back after a moment, eyes meeting Victor’s.“I want you to stay.”

 

“I—I can’t.”

 

“Why not?”

 

Victor didn’t have an answer to that, but it didn’t seem like Yuuri expected him to have one.Yuuri hiccuped again, readjusting his grip on Victor’s shoulders.His brows seemed to furrow in deep thought for a second, before he smirked once again at Victor.(Victor’s breath stuttered; he felt that smirk would be enough to undo anyone.)

 

“Y’know, I’m gonna win next year.I’m gonna s—skate as well as—I’ll skate _better_ than you.”

 

Victor bit his lip, grinning softly at the idea.He brought a finger up to Yuuri’s chin, tilting it up.“I look forward to it.”

 

Yuuri’s eyes widened, as if Victor’s answer was surprising.He glanced down for a moment, eyes flickering back and forth between Victor’s eyes and his lips.In a split-second decision, making it impossible for Victor to protest (although he seriously doubted, at that point, that there was any protest left in him), Yuuri fisted both hands in Victor’s collar and tugged. 

 

Victor stumbled, catching himself with one hand on the doorframe.Yuuri closed the distance between them and their lips met, far softer than Victor might’ve predicted.The voice in his head still criticized him, whispering for him to pull back, but Victor didn’t have the heart to do so—didn’t have the heart, he figured, to do anything _but_ kiss Yuuri Katsuki. _That_ had to be what he was put on earth to do, if he was judging by the warm, bubbly feeling that he knew wasn’t champagne anymore.It only made sense.

 

Yuuri tangled one hand in Victor’s hair, letting out a slight, “Soft,” that could’ve easily been mistaken for a breath. 

 

Victor sighed against his lips, bringing both hands up to cup Yuuri’s cheeks, kissing with everything he could and ignoring every warning sign that told him, _You’ve just met him, and he’s drunk, and he doesn’t mean the things he’s been saying this entire night—_

 

Yuuri pulled back an inch, fixing Victor with a look that burned—Victor knew that look, it was one of unstoppable will.

 

“You’ll coach me, then?”

 

Victor’s anxieties left him in a laugh.He shook his head, disbelieving.“I don’t think I have any no’s left in me at this point, not for you.”

 

Yuuri smiled—this smile a secret, between the two of them.He stepped back against the door, hand flailing to find balance as he almost tripped over thin air.He held a hand to his lips, eyes far away in thought.After a moment (Victor had to catch himself, realizing with a slight degree of nervousness that he had just been _staring_ at the boy), Yuuri’s brows furrowed and he announced, “Think ‘m gonna be sick.”

 

Victor jolted.“Do you want me to—?”

 

Yuuri pressed a finger to his lips, shushing him with soft noises as one would calm a pet.He removed the finger when Victor had quieted, pressing a quick kiss to his lips instead.Victor took a moment to open his eyes, words having been lost on him.Yuuri grinned again.“See you next level, Victor.”

 

“Yeah,” Victor whispered, breathless, and watched as Yuuri closed the door between them.“See you next level.”

**Author's Note:**

> WELP IT WAS ONLY A MATTER OF TIME  
> ofc the only thing to bring me out of a months-long writers block would be yuri on ice
> 
> rip my originality


End file.
